


Morse the Midwife

by guardianoffun



Series: Shameless [9]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Found Family, M/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 23:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20379553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardianoffun/pseuds/guardianoffun
Summary: Morse had not planned on being at Shirley's side when the baby happened. But he was. Honestly, nobody's quite sure who's the most nervous out of the pair of them. Thank god Shirley knows what she's doing.





	Morse the Midwife

**Author's Note:**

> i just... love morse and shirley... if they're not lvoers than they're damn good friends!! and !! yeah!! we gave shirley and fancy a baby in this series so i used that as an excuse for morse to struggle with the concept of childbirth lol

He had been around to drop off a few things for Fancy (it just so happened he had found the softest baby blanket and plush toy whilst he was shopping earlier too, but that wasn’t why he was here. No, it wasn't, honestly.) and Shirley had invited him in for tea, seeing how it had been a while since his last visit. It had been some months since she’d been at the station and now her due date loomed at the end of the week. Morse tried to offer up the mediocre gossip, the little he’d picked up on.

An hour or so later though, and Shirley was barely listening. Her face grew pinched and she rubbed endlessly at her back.

Morse made his excuses, went to leave, because it seemed she wasn’t up for much company now. Shirley had smiled, apologised and then thanked him, probably planning on a hot bath then a nap. As she stood to see him out though, she let out a small yelp, and a flash of realisation crossed her face.

“Morse I think-“

“Are you?” They both spoke together, eyes all drawn to her bump. It was quiet for a beat, and then.

“Yes I rather think I am,” she said quietly. Then she let out a laugh. Morse stared with wide eyes; this didn’t seem to be a laughing matter.

“What do we, uh, do?” He asked uneasily. He’s not sure why he said we, apparently he’s committed to being part of this now, if only because there’s nobody else and one slightly inexperienced set of hands os possibly better than none. Not that he doesn’t have the biggest soft spot for Shirley, but he knows his aversion to dead bodies, and imagines that child birth is unfortunately similar in it’s mess of bodily fluids and the like.

Shirley, now a little more steady on her feet points towards the small pile of bags at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Everything hospital is in there, I just need to  _ get  _ there. You couldn’t call me an ambulance could you?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he heard himself say, already scooping up her bags. “That’ll take twice as long, I’ll drive.” 

“Really?” She sounded a little surprised, so he nodded and Shirley cracked a smile at the offer. “Morse, you’re my hero.” 

* * *

“What about Fancy?” He asked, dropping the last of the bags into the back of the Jag. Shirley glanced over the roof of the car at him, and laughed.

“He’s at his cousin’s, her’s just turned one, load of newborn stuff,” she winced again, doubling over with a groan. “He’ll be heading back any minute now but he’s like, an hour away!” Her voice tailed off into more of a cry towards the end, and Morse rushed to her side, hands flapping uselessly at her waist.

“Can I?” He offered meekly. 

“Unless you’ve got some hard drugs in this car Morse, no.” Morse let his hands fall, wringing them a little as Shirley breathed through another contraction. He watched as her fingers gripped the roof with enough force to turn her knuckles white. 

“Want me to call him?” Shirley nodded.

“Number’s by the phone; If he hasn’t left already you tell him to get his pretty little ass in gear  _ now _ .” Morse nodded, running for the door as fast as he could, nearly knocking the phone flying as he scrambled for it. It took four rings for anyone to pick up and when they did it was the soft voice of a young woman on the other end.

“Alice speaking.” Morse swore under his breath.

“Hello, sorry uh, Morse here - is Fancy there? George, that is?” Alice, picking up on Morse’s nervousness replied.

“No, he just left; did you say Morse? From the station, is everything okay?” Morse slapped the phone table.

“Yes, well sort of, no - the baby’s coming.” He blurted. Alice swore that time. 

“Oh Lord, well Georgie shouldn’t be too long, an hour at most.” Morse let out a short groan. 

“That’ll have to do, I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” he said, eyeing the door. He already felt as though he’d left Shirley too long. 

“Oh it’s no worry, of course! Tell Shirley best of luck from us, you take care of her Morse!” Morse let out a tight laugh and made his goodbyes. He dithered for a second, before punching in another number; his own.

“Peter,” came the lazy response. “Jakes!” He could practically hear Jakes snapping to attention at the panic in his voice. 

“Morse, what’s-“

“Shirley, baby, now,” he said, trusting Jakes would keep up. “Fancy’s on his way home but we’re leaving now, will you come and wait for him, get him straight-“ Jakes, ever quick sounded as though he was already pulling his shoes on.

“On my way Morse, don’t worry, you just take care of Shirley.” Somehow just the sound of Jakes’ calm and measured voice was enough to settle some of his nerves, and he was able to run back out to Shirley, slightly less panicked than he was when he left.

Shirley on the other hand had a slightly more worried look in her eyes, as though she was only just realising what was actually happening.

“Shit Morse, this is happening-“ she said with a gasp from the passenger seat. Morse slid in beside her and slid his hand over hers.

“Yes, but it’s going to be fine; George is already on his way, Jakes is going to sit and wait for him, bring him straight up when he’s back. We’ve got this Trewlove.” 

Shirley swatted his hand. “Morse, I think we’re at the point you can call me Shirley-“ she cut off, wincing as her hand tightened around Morse’s. 

Morse watched carefully as her face crumpled into an agonised grimace, counting off the seconds in his head. He assumed that’s what he was supposed to do; there was certainly little else he  _ could  _ do right now. The time between them meant very little to him, but he assumed the fact there still seemed to be a decent stretch of time between contractions that they had time. He hoped.

Once the pain passed and Shirley could breathe steady again, Morse stuck the car in gear and set off. It was too quiet at first, and Morse found himself too often glancing over at Shirley. He thought himself a decent motorist, obviously observant of traffic laws and the like but he with Shirley on board he was taking more care than perhaps he usually had. At one point, as he went for the brake, Shirley grabbed his arm and all but howled.

“Morse, we’re the police; for the love of God, run that red.”

“Shirley!” He cried out, shocked at the suggestion, but Shirley’s only response was another low groan as she curled in on herself. He supposed, in this instance, it might be the smarter choice.

They sped across the road, and soon enough the Radcliffe appeared in the distance. Finding somewhere to park took longer than it should have, because Morse was even more careful about pulling into a spot with Shirley next to him. Once parked up, he unbuckled the both of them, and slid out of the car.

Running to the other side he offered an arm to Shirley, and they managed to manoeuvre themselves out from between the cars. Shirley had a pinched look on her face as her hand pressed against her stomach.

“I can’t wait to lose the stupid bump,” she muttered. “I feel like a whale.” 

Morse, ever eloquent replied “Well you don’t look like one.” In the very least it made Shirley laugh.

“Thanks Morse, you’re sweet.” 

As the reached the doors, a nurse came rushing over. She had a wheelchair with her, which Shirley dropped into gratefully. Morse let Shirley rattle off patient numbers and the like, taking up a place behind the chair so that once all the proper papers were signed he was ready. 

As Shirley finished printing her name on the last dotted line, Morse gripped the handles of the chair. The nurse shook her head, tittering.

“No fathers in the delivery room,” she said, hands already pushing Morse towards the row of waiting seats. Shirley all but growled.

“I’ve not got anyone else, he’s coming in.“ 

Morse flushed pink.“And I’m not the father, I’m-“

“My brother, look we’re both police, you don’t let him in I’m having you arrested.“

The nurse’s eyebrows shot up as her eyes darted between the two of them, and she looked as though she might say something so Morse flashed his warrant card at her. She rolled her eyes.

“Fine, but we better keep moving if you want to have this baby in a bed Mrs. Fancy.”

Not about to argue, Morse nodded, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair once again and following her down the twisting paths of the hospital. Out of habit he nearly pushed Shirley towards the lift, feet thinking of DeBryn and his lab. Thankfully the nurse steered them right, headed toward the last place Morse ever thought he might find himself; the maternity ward.

At first, it was relatively calm. The nurses were calm, at least, Shirley was understandably quite stressed, by virtue of which Morse found himself a little tense but there was something quite reassuring the midwife’s practiced methods. She swept in, patted Shirley’s hand and smiled.

“You’ll have to forgive Louise,” she said as she set about helping Shirley onto the bed. “She’s rather stuck in her ways about men at the delivery and whatnot.” She glanced over at Morse and winked.

“I think it’s about time you lot saw what us girls have to deal with.” Morse offered back a feeble nod. He was all for equal rights and respecting women, all of that; but he somehow felt this was one of those women things he didn’t  _ need  _ to be a part of. 

Just as he thought as such, Shirley let out a gasp and tensed again. His hands found their way to hers, and when the pain eventually passed Shirley was slumped against his shoulder. Maybe he did need to be a part of this, unplanned as it was.

“Oh God, Morse,” she groaned against his shirt. “I can’t do this!” He squeezed the hand she had grasped.

“Yes you can,” he said matter of factly. This was Shirley Trewlove, the smartest,

Strongest woman he knew, if anyone could do this it was her. He told her as much, keeping up a stream of reassurances and encouragement as the minutes slipped by.

They settled into a pattern pretty quick, of quiet rests and noisy contractions. Morse alternated between holding cold towels to Shirley’s face and rubbing a hand along her back, any little thing he could do. The midwife, who introduced herself as Brenda, was a firm but kind in her directions, putting Morse to use wherever she could; fetching ice, plumping pillows and acting as punching bag when Shirley needed something to grip onto.

The whole thing nearly lulled Morse into a false sense of security because they seemed to have a handle on things, and it all was going well until Shirley’s waters broke, and then it all went a little crazy.

Fancy still hadn’t arrived, which panicked Morse nearly as much as it did Shirley, and there was suddenly an influx of people in the room. It hit Morse, then, that it was real and happening, and that in probably mere minutes there would be a child in the room. It was enough to make his head spin.

By now, Morse had long since lost his jacket, his sleeves rolled up and tie tucked into his shirt. He was pressed as close to the bed as he could, one arm behind Shirley’s head where her hand could grab it, the other ready to grab a drink or cloth or whatever she asked for. She tilted her head to look at him, pain written across her face.

“Can this be over yet, Morse I’m tired,” she moaned, voice barely above a whisper. He gave her hand a squeeze. “You’re nearly there, you’ve got this.” He felt nails cut into his palm as Shirley tensed again.

“I’ve got you, I’m here,” he kept up the mantra as Shirley rode out the wave of agony. She fell back against his with tears on her face and a watery smile. 

“You’ve always got me Morse.” A warm rush of affection swept over Morse. He had never been one for friendship, never truly fitting in with any one at school or college, and it hadn’t been until Cowley he had started forming any sort of bonds and even then, most of them had been against his will. But Thursday, Strange, Fancy and Shirley had all wormed their way into his life and heart, not to mention the spectacular way Peter Jakes had made an impact on him. Had you told Morse just a few years ago that he’d be standing at Shirley’s bedside mid-labour, his boyfriend on his way and the little brother figure he’d never asked for in tow, he’d not have believed you.

Yet here he was, doing all that and more, because - as he suddenly realised - he did care about all of them. A smile flitted across his face at the thought, but vanished when Shirley swore exceptionally loudly, and punched him in the chest. 

There was no more time to think, because this baby was happening  _ now _ .

Morse felt his stomach turn. It was stupid, he knew, because he was a smart man, who knew what labour was and all it entailed but somehow that knowledge was of no help to him when there was an actual baby happening right there in front of him. It was a miracle, he reminded himself as Shirley’s cries rang in his ear. It was all starting to sound very far away. It was only her hand, nails digging sharp into his palm, that kept him on two feet. 

“You can do it Shirley,” he said, voice stronger than he felt. Perhaps because through it all he had faith in Shirley Trewlove. Even so, as she glanced up at him and let out another scream, Morse felt himself sway. Then a nurse brushed past, a bloody linen in hand, at the same time the midwife between Shirley’s legs told her to push. Then the door crashed open with a bang, and it all became a bit too much for Morse, who went very limp and dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Faintly he heard yelling; Shirley, the midwife, his own, and was that Fancy? Then another voice much closer, as he felt himself being pulled upright. 

“You alright down there Morse?” He didn’t need to see Jakes to know he was probably grinning as he said it. Morse sort of  _ mmpfh _ -ed in response as he let himself be manhandled onto a chair. 

As Jakes propped him up, another sound joined the noise of the room; tiny cries, small but powerful. All heads turned to the centre of the room, to Shirley and the small bundle in her arms. 

With her hair plastered to her face and tears streaming down her face, Shirley looked up at Fancy and grinned. Then she caught Morse’s eye and let out a laugh. 

“A little girl, Morse!” 

The wooziness cleared in seconds as Morse propelled himself across the room, Jakes close behind him. There was already a nurse at his elbow ready to herd the lot of them out, but Shirley reached out and grabbed his hand before he was whisked away.

“Thank you,” she said, voice thick with tears. “For everything Morse, you’ve been-“ Morse shut her up with a kiss to her cheek. 

“Anytime,” he said softly. Then there was a prod to his back, and he found himself shoved out onto the ward, Fancy and Jakes either side of him.

Fancy looked a little dazed as Jakes clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, congrats daddy,” he said, laughing. Fancy smiled, one that lit his entire face, and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “Thanks, I- I can’t believe… A girl, I’ve got a little girl!” 

He pulled his hands out again, and Morse found himself enveloped in a spine crushing hug. 

“Thanks Morse,” he heard Fancy’s muffled voice against his shoulder. “For being there, all that, you’ve been-“

Morse slapped a hand on Fancy’s back, before pulling back. “You would have done the same.” He offered back, a little lost for words, and his head still spinning slightly. Fancy laughed, stepping back to give Jakes a hearty thump on the shoulder too.

“Let’s get you a coffee Fancy, you look a little wonky,” Jakes said pointing towards the sign for the canteen. He glanced across at Morse, who by now had slumped into a chair.

“You coming Morse?” He waved a hand in response.

“I’m good, still a little... _ .”  _ He trailed off, letting his head drop back and his eyes fell shut. 

“Bring me back a tea?” 

Jakes nodded as the pair of them headed off, and Morse let himself finally unwind for a second. The intense few hours had gotten to him, and now that both mum and babe were happy and healthy, he felt about ready to drop. 

He may have fallen asleep for a moment, because the next thing he knew, there was a tapping on his shoulder. A somewhat familiar face of one of the nurses smiled down at him.

“Detective Morse? Whatever are you doing here?” She asked, and then recognition clicked. The sympathetic nurse who had happened to tend to Morse on more than one occasion.

“Didn’t think you were one to go getting girls in trouble.” Morse let out a short laugh.

“No, but she’s my,” he fumbled for a second remembering their story. “Sister, just had her first.” He nodded his head towards the window in the door where faintly, the shadows of Shirley and the little one could be seen.

The nurse gave him a soft smile. “Well, congratulations uncle Morse.” The title made something in Morse’s chest flutter. He quite liked the sound of that.

* * *

Jakes and Fancy reappear, both still grinning, Jakes with two drinks in his hands. Morse gives Fancy a wave as he slips past them into Shirley’s room, and turns to Jakes who drops down beside him.

“You alright?” He says handing Morse the tea. For a second Morse is too distracted by the warmth in his hand, and the small rush of affection at Jakes’ spot on creation of his perfect brew to reply. 

“Yeah, course.” Jakes reaches his free hand over to cup the side of his face, fingers curling in his hair. 

“Just you went down pretty quick in there, checking you didn’t knock anything loose.” His probing fingers roam the back of Morse’s head till he bats him away.

“Nothing that wasn’t already,” he said with a soft laugh. Jakes snorts, and lets his arm fall around Morse’s shoulders. There’s a moment of quiet before Jakes speaks again.

“You did good, Dev.” The genuine compliment makes Morse’s cheeks flush. 

“I expected you to go funny way sooner.” The sweet moment gone, Morse slaps Jakes on the wrist.

“Arse.” Jakes’s catches his fingers and loops them with his.

“Love you too.” Then Jakes nudges him in the ribs with a grin “Shall we go see our niece then?” 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this was good idk how babies work


End file.
